Obsession
by Attila the Conqueror
Summary: [oneshot] Featuring Macavity, the way I see him as being truly 'in love' with Demeter... if that's what you could call it.


**A/N: **Just an old one-shot that I dug up and decided to complete...

Disclaimer: Me no own CATS. You no sue me.

* * *

The young queen checked behind her, for the third time that night. She had definitely heard something that time; but her eyes met with nothing but a dark empty street. Not a soul in sight. Sighing, she continued on her way to her human's house, although she couldn't help but speed her pace to a brisk walk. 

Behind her, a ginger tom seemed to appear out of the shadows, a smirk causing the corners of his lips to twitch upwards. It was always so much more fun to toy with them first. Once the queen was a safe distance away, he continued to follow her. After a few minutes, he 'tripped' over a can, but blended into the shadows again before the queen could see him.

Turning around sharply, the queen again saw nothing except a small tin can rolling towards her. That had to mean she wasn't just imagining things, right? As soon as she turned around again, ready to run home if she had to, a paw covered her mouth, and another pulled her against the body of her stalker. A muffled scream was barely audible.

"Shhh," a low gravelly voice purred into her ear, almost comforting if the queen hadn't been able to hear the amused undertones. She struggled, but the tom merely wrapped an arm around her waist; an arm strong enough that she had no hope of getting away. Claws pricked the soft skin of her face, warning her of what would happen if she continued to fight. The queen had no choice but to stop her struggle. "Much better," the tom spoke softly, retracting his claws as a reward. "Are you going to scream?"

The queen shook her head, although every part of her mind told her that as soon as he moved his paw from her mouth, she would scream at the top of her lungs. Sure enough, the tom removed his paw to trace her jugular vein, where a thin gold stripe was placed against her black fur.

"Please! Someone help me!" The queen was silenced by the tom choking her with his paw. It made no difference, however; the cats of the streets knew better than to disturb this particular tom when he was like this.

"You lied to me," the tom growled, "you shouldn't lie to me. I might not be nice." Something in the way he spoke made the queen decide not to scream anymore. She nodded and the tom loosened his grasp on her neck, beginning to trace the veins in her neck again. Everlasting Cat, she wished she could at least see this tom! But the paw stroking her neck kept her from looking. "Good girl," he purred before nipping the tip of her ear none-too-gently. His paws began to move along her body, seeming to focus on the small gold stripes. It made the queen's flesh crawl, but she was too afraid to fight him. The only thing she could do was close her eyes tightly.

It was really too bad when they stopped struggling, Macavity thought to himself with a smirk. It was always so much fun when they fought him to the end. Then again, if she struggled here, some noble idiot who didn't know the rules might try to rescue her. No matter; soon enough she would be struggling once more. A thin strip of cloth appeared in his paw, and he wrapped it around the queen's eyes. She was so beautiful... just like Demeter.

As the cloth was pulled tight against her face, the queen shifted and struggled for a moment before the threat of Macavity's dangerously sharp claws calmed her down again. She began to cry, both from fear and from anger that she wasn't able to do anything. Then all of a sudden, the queen realized that she wasn't outside anymore. No longer could she smell the slight tang of salt on the air; in its stead was the stale taste of the indoors. There was no longer any autumn chill, either. "W-where am I?" she sobbed, head moving as though looking around, although the blindfold was keeping her from actually seeing anything.

"Nowhere at all, Demeter," the response was chilling; the ginger tom too busy and too lost in his desires to care about what the queen was feeling.

"My name is not Demeter," the queen whimpered, failing to inject any sort of authority or bravery in her voice.

"No, my dear," the tom purred, his voice gently correcting her in contrast to roughly shoving her over to a corner where a pile of large overstuffed cushions awaited them, "tonight, your name is Demeter."


End file.
